


forget me not

by booping_the_snoot



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Depictions of a Panic Attack, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs Angst, Mild Gore, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Raccoon Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Raccoon TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Angst, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), does this count as main character death if theyre already dead, don't be fooled by the raccooninnit tag hes actually a shapeshifter, eventually, hey why does tubbos tag have his name in it thats kinda weirdchamp, pls why are there so many tags of the same thing, told from michaels pov, why is foolishs tag his name... yall weirdchamp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 12:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30021531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booping_the_snoot/pseuds/booping_the_snoot
Summary: the crown of alliums sits on the nightstand next to your bed. no matter how long it’s been, the flowers don’t wither or wilt.aka, uncle mimi vibing with michael. lowercase intended
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Hannah | Hannahxxrose & Noah Brown & Sam | Awesamdude & Tommyinnit, Hannah | Hannahxxrose & Sam | Awesamdude, Noah Brown & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Noah Brown & TommyInnit, Ponk | DropsByPonk & Michael the baby piglin, Ponk | DropsByPonk & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Tubbo, Ranboo & Tubbo & Michael the baby piglin, Ranboo & Tubbo & TommyInnit, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF) & Michael the baby piglin, Tubbo & Tommyinnit
Comments: 65
Kudos: 524
Collections: Chossi's fic reccomendations for the soul, Completed stories I've read





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls keep the tags in mind
> 
> this has evolved from "i'm gonna write phantommy-michael fluff bc :]" to "5k words of pure pain" and i'm not sure how to feel.

mimi places the crudely made flower crown across your head. you try not to twitch your ears and dislodge your crown, and smile up at mimi. mimi smiles down at you from where he hovers.

“there you go big man,” mimi says softly, “every king needs a crown.” he rests his hand on your head, somehow not jostling the flowers. his hand drops from your head and you go to grab it with both hands, snorting at him when yours slide through his. oh, that's how he didn't mess up your crown. you look up at mimi, personal offense written on your face and he snickers. “sorry. ‘m kinda tired.”

you go for his hand again, and again yours go through his. “old.” you mumble at mimi in piglin speak. standing from where you were sat atop the hill, you pointedly snort at mimi once more and start waddling down the small hill and into the snow. you don’t hear mimi follow, but mimi is always with you so you know he’s not too far behind you. the thought fills you with warmth.

after a few steps, mimi floats to your side. despite knowing that you can’t physically grip him, you put your hand up near his, and he places his near yours in the mimicry of a handhold.

the walk back home isn’t very long. boo’s garden is close, only a minute's walk, and you spend it in near silence. mimi hums a familiar tune, the same he always hums when lost in thought. you’ve asked him about it before, but despite your best attempts, you cannot recall its name.

when asked, mimi tells you that it reminds him of an astronaut and loneliness. you ask him what an astronaut is, and he points out your bedroom window to the crimson lit dusk and tells of explorers that journey into space, into something far vaster than the oceans of the nether and overworld combined. you ask about constellations the next night, and he leaves before coming back with a dusty looking book. you learn about the stars and their stories together.

you walk past the treeline with mimi and start towards the large house. before you know it, boo is in front of you and grabbing your hands. “where have you been?” he asks gently, eyebrows furrowed. you open your mouth, think, and close your mouth. lacking words, you huff and wiggle your arms. boo understands after a moment's pause, and he gently squeezes your hands before releasing them.

‘garden. with mimi. made me crown,’ you sign, and boo’s worry seems to fade the slightest bit. you beam at him, and responds with a smile of his own before scooping you up into his arms. boo gives you a big kiss on the cheek, careful of your purple crown, and rests you on his hip before turning back towards the house.

“i’m glad you had fun, michael,” boo says as you rest your head on his shoulder, “but please be more careful next time. who knows what could’ve happened if you got hurt by yourself.”

“not alone,” you say before continuing in sign, ‘mimi with me. mimi here.’

boo sighs and rubs a hand down your back. “right, sorry. i’m sure mimi would have looked out for you, but you still gotta be more careful bud…”

you turn your head to look over boo’s shoulder, and mimi is gone. you aren’t worried, though. mimi will always be there, even if you can’t see him. boo carries you back into your home and bee is immediately there, feeling you for injuries. his prodding hands nearly make your crown fall, and you whine at him. bee pauses to fix your crown before continuing his pat down, and you start papping his hands in annoyance.

you can hear mimi’s giggles from wherever he is, and grumble as he laughs at your misery.

you don’t know when mimi showed up. one day it was just you and bee and boo, and then mimi was there. now mimi’s there all the time, and even though no one else seems to see him, you believe that he’s real. he brings you fruit and sweets stolen from the kitchen and pantry, and he checks under the bed at night when you’re scared, and he hums you to sleep when bee and boo aren’t home, and he protects you when no one else does. he’s not bee or boo, but he’s there when they aren’t.

one day, you find mimi playing on bees piano.

“of course i know how to play!” mimi boasts, voice still soft despite his bravado. You sit on the seat next to him, and he pauses his playing to look down at you.

‘play,’ you sign up at him. mimi raises an eyebrow, and you huff before hastily adding on, ‘please.’ his smile ticks the slightest bit wider at that.

mimi slides closer and readies his hands above the keys. “o’ course, big m. here, i’ll show you my favourite.” mimi’s fingers dance over the piano, slower than before, and you watch with rapt attention. “f sharp, e, b. c sharp, b, g. f, e, b, b c b a.” mimi instructs as he goes. he goes faster as the song progresses as if forgetting the piglin at his side. you don’t mind though, happy to listen to the little tune content to lean into mimi’s side. it reminds you of the song the green man had hummed the one time he was here. the man had seemed nice, his fur soft and his four legs leaving him towering over even boo. boo and bee had been quick to chase the man out, however.

“a b b, c d f-” mimi singsongs the notes as he plays, before stopping abruptly. “sorry, sorry, too fast-” mimi says with a nervous laugh. instead of replying, you put your hooved fingers on the piano and attempt to copy mimi’s earlier notes. you get every key wrong, unable to remember with all the keys looking the same, and turn back to mimi.

mimi places his hands over yours, his phantom touch barely ruffling your fur but solid enough to move your hand and press your fingers. “f sharp, e, b.” he instructs slowly, leading you to the correct keys. mimi plays you through the song, and when you finish he cheers and claps his hands softly. your chest swells with pride, and you poke his side until he helps you play once more.

he tells you that this song is called the able sisters and that it’s his favourite. at the end of the day, you can’t play it nearly as well as mimi can, but mimi still voices his joy and hoists you up into his arms. he spins you around in his arm before gently placing you back onto the seat, and the rest of the night is spent listening to mimi play a multitude of songs.

bee and boo aren’t back till late, but that’s okay. bee kneels down and gives you a hug, and when he asks you how your day has been, you simply sign ‘fun’ before burying yourself into bee’s chest.

you see mimi smiling at you from where he floats in the corner of the room. mimi isn’t as  _ there _ as he was earlier, but you can still see him. bee and boo don’t, or won’t, but mimi insists he doesn’t mind whenever you ask. you’re pretty sure he’s lying because his smile doesn’t seem as real, and his eyes lose a bit of their sparkle, but you don’t push.

mimi flashes you the sign for ‘love’ with a soft smile, before fading from view once more. despite mimi fading, you sign it back from behind bee’s back.

it’s on a day when bee and boo are off doing what they call adult stuff, when a piglin approaches the house.

you spot them through the window and can’t help but stare. You don’t take note of much outside of their crown, and that’s all you see before the piglins head begins to turn in your direction and the curtain is suddenly closed in front of you.

“hey-” you say in piglin. mimi looks worried, and you freeze in your tracks. as soon as you notice the worry it’s gone, and mimi smiles down at you.

mimi is quick to scoop you into his arms and float down the hall, pointedly straying from any windows “sorry mikey,” he murmurs to you, and despite your confusion, you sign ‘okay’ before gently papping his chest. whatever tension that had remained nearly fades entirely as mimi looks upon you like you hung the moon and stars. “stop being such a sweet kid, it’s gonna double kill me,” mimi says. he brings you back to your bedroom and sets you down before pausing.

“you wanna read a story?” mimi asks, and you nod. “okay. Why don’t you wait on the bed, and i’ll grab a few books for you to choose from?” you nod once more. mimi goes to collect some books from the other side of the room, and you don’t say anything when he locks the hatch leading out of your room.

after each story he reads, he floats up to the high windows in your room and glances down at the front lawn. it’s only after reading you a story called frog and toad that mimi relaxes after checking the window. ‘okay?’ you sign at mimi as he floats back down, and mimi smiles at you before fingerspelling ‘pog’ and unlocking the hatch.

you open up your arms for a hug, and mimi doesn’t hesitate before picking you up in a bear hug. “love you,” he says, planting a big kiss on your temple, and you squeeze him as much as you can before squirming to be let down. mimi plops you on the bed and returns to reading you more stories. you fall asleep while mimi reads to you about a rainbow fish. mimi tucks you into bed, puts the books back, and smiles down at you before fading once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanku for reading
> 
> title from elsa's song by the amazing devil


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> light depictions of a panic attack. kinda sucky but based on my own experiences, so. yknow.
> 
> starts at "your mind falls silent as your eyes linger on the ocean." and fully ends at "ranboo and tubbo exit the house and ranboo sets michael down on the ground."

you reach for another slice of pie. bee lightly bats your hand away and you chirp at him in dismay. “no, you already had a slice, michael.” he says sternly, “you need to eat your vegetables first.”

“please,” you ask in piglin. despite not knowing any of the language, it’s not too hard for bee to guess what you asked.

“no.” bee says again, shaking his head. you huff at him and poke at your carrot slices. boo chuckles from where he’s seated, and your glower grows. mimi’s own giggles from his corner of the room don’t help.

“aw, big man wants some more sweets?” mimi teases, and you only huff once more in reply.

“meanie.” you say in piglin, and when mimi responds in kind, a quick “big baby,” you can’t help but stare. mimi knows piglin? since when? could he always understand you?

you see boo track your eyes to where mimi hovers, but you pay him no mind. “you speak piglin?” you ask mimi. mimi just nods and grins, one brow raised in appraisal. “that i do.” mimi says. when you tilt your head in question, he simply says “you’re not the only piglin i know- knew, big m.”

boo’s ears twitch in curiosity and confusion, and he nudges bee’s arm to get his attention. you don’t notice when they both look between you and mimi in slight concern.

turning to bee and boo, you make grabby hands for one. boo is quick to pick you up from your seat and set you in his lap. “bee, boo,” you say to them before continuing in sign, ‘mimi knows piglin! mimi knows piglin, never told!’

the concern drains from their shoulders as quickly as it had appeared. “that’s so cool, baby!” boo says, “why don’t you chat with mimi later though? i’m sure he wouldn’t mind waiting for you to finish your veggies first.” and with that, you’re placed back into your seat.

ah. yea. you’d been so focused on the realization that at least one person has been able to understand you this entire time, that you completely forgot about your carrots. who eats carrots, anyways? they aren’t even gold. what’s the point of eating carrots if they aren’t gold? gold carrots are so much better.

you’re only a couple bites in when you feel a tap on your leg. when you glance down, mimi is under the table. a finger is pressed to his lips in the universal sign for ‘stay quiet,’ a cookie resting in his other hand. he passes it to you with a wink before drifting through the table and back towards the pantry as if floating in a lake. a water lake, of course, you’re pretty sure a normal lake would kill a human like mimi.

bee and boo are talking to each other. it would be so easy to just…

you bite into the cookie. the crunch is incredibly loud. you see mimi’s shoulders hunch and tail fluff at the sudden noise, and bee and boo stop talking to look over at you in surprise. you meet their eyes as mimi turns around, cringes at the stare-down, and throws you a peace sign before fading from view. traitor. 

you chew on your bite of the cookie once, and bee sputters at you before standing from his seat.

“michael!?” bee says sternly but with an undercurrent of amused confusion, “how did you even-” he barely gets a step in before you’re shoving the rest of the cookie into your mouth and dashing from the table. bee gives chase, and you can hear boo lightly laugh from where he remains seated at the table, and mimi giggle from an indecipherable location.

it doesn’t take long for bee to catch you, but by then you’ve already finished your stolen cookie. he huffs when you don’t pay his scolding much mind, focused on brushing the crumbs from your fur. when you’re brought back to the table, boo helps clean your face with a napkin, and you’re once again faced with your yucky not-gold carrots. you don’t regret it.

it’s midday when you hear a new voice outside. you peak out a window, and unlike last time, mimi peaks out with you. outside, you see bee talking with someone with bright yellow wings. not a gold yellow, but still eye-catching. they’re loud, yet you can’t hear what they’re saying. looking up at mimi, mimi meets your eyes and smiles.

“you wanna go investigate?” he asks, and you nod enthusiastically before making grabby-hands for your floaty friend. “what, can't walk yourself?” mimi questions. you don’t deign him with an answer, and he picks you up anyways.

you like being carried by mimi. being carried or hugged or papped by mimi feels like touching a water cloud, or what you imagine touching one would feel like. the ash clouds of the nether are something you don’t think you’d mind never seeing again. if only you could actually grip mimi’s tail, or his shirt, both the fur and the fabric look incredibly soft and well-loved.

mimi places you down after bringing you to the first floor, and you only huff at him a little bit. for some reason, mimi feels that bee and boo would freak out if they saw you floating. which wouldn’t be a problem if _someone_ would introduce himself to them. you don’t push, though- you’ve tried your best to explain that bee and boo are nice and that they’d love to meet mimi and won’t be mean to him. you think that someone might have been really mean to mimi before, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to show himself. whatever mimi’s reasoning, you’ll be there for him just as he is for you.

as you and mimi approach the front door, you hear their voices more clearly. you can’t hear boo, but you can make out bee from the stranger’s loud tongue.

“i’m sure ranboo would love to visit, but between the mansion and the inn and michael-”

“aw, c’mon tubbo, the inn can wait, the mansion will be fine, you can bring your kid!”

“i know, but-”

“kinoko isn’t part of the smp. you don’t have to worry about anyone getting hurt there. we wouldn’t let anything happen to you guys.”

“...”

mimi speaks up during the moment of silence. “That’s quackity, but you should call him big q,” mimi tells you, whispering conspiratorially as if doesn’t have control over who can or cannot hear him, “he’s a duck hybrid. he’s a good dude.”

“Trust?” you whisper to mimi. he’s quick to mimic the word back to you, piglin only slightly accented.

you choose that moment to stick your head out the door. you see mimi in the edge of your vision do the same, floating above you within the doorway. you let out a chirp to get bee’s attention, and both he and the stranger turn towards you.

“oh, michael!” bee says, walking over and picking you up. bee rests you on his hip and you use your newfound vantage point to inspect the stranger some more. the only thing that stands out to you, other than the off-yellow wings, is a scar starting from the left side of his lip and cutting up into his eye, discoloring it. it’s kind of like yours, the more you look at it.

mimi is quick to notice where your gaze lingers, and he coos at you, more of a chittering sound than anything.

“yea big man, his eye is like yours!” mimi says.

before bee or the newly dubbed big q can say anything, you’re making grabby hands towards the duck hybrid. big q giggles and awws at you before looking to bee. “can i?” he asks, and after only a moments pause, bee passes you into big q’s arms.

“hey there little dude,” big q says. you put your hand up near his foggy eye, brushing your fingers across the edge of his eyelids, and he blinks at you. you take your other hand and press it against your eye, before signing ‘same’ at him.

he immediately starts tearing up. “yea! we are the same!” he says loudly, voice an octave higher.

“aww,” you hear bee and mimi coo together.

big q holds you close to his side and uses his now freed arm to wipe across his face. “holy shit, i would die for you, i’d fuckin’ die for this kid, i fuckin’ would-”

boo appears from nowhere, purple particles drifting from his form different from mimi’s particles, and grabs you from big q’s arms with a shout of “language!!”

bee and mimi burst into laughter as big q sputters and makes grabby hands for you, not unlike you did for him only a few minutes before. you hear mimi say something about a ‘bad boy halo’ and you giggle from your spot in boo’s arms.

“i heard there’s a surprise playdate happening today, big m.”

michael looks up from where he was playing with his plush mooshroom. it’s a ragged thing, stitching messy and looking like it could fall apart at a single tug. tubbo had gotten the cloth from puffy and ranboo stitched it together. if you weren’t a ghost, you’d probably yell at ranboo about how shit it is, and maybe offer to teach him how to better sew. but as it is, you simply offer to fix it for michael whenever something happens to it. which isn’t often, the little piglin treats it almost as gently as he does your allium crown.

“really?” the squirt asks you in piglin. he places his mooshroom down next to his pillow delicately and hops off his bed, running over to you and making grabby hands. you scoop him up the moment he’s close and he starts babbling at you in piglin.

“woah, woah, slow down buddy-” you say with a nervous giggle to your voice, “my brain voice is still in english, you gotta slow down-”

you hear the hatch to michael's room open and place the once zombified piglin down on the floor faster than you can blink. you feel your heart ( _insert ghost with a heart joke here,_ you think to yourself) beating a mile a minute, and struggle to flatten your puffed-up fur. you turn and see ranboo climbing up, turning to beam at michael.

“hey buddy!” ranboo says, and michael is on him in a second, arms wrapped around ranboo’s neck.

“boo!” michael explains, “mimi said- mimi-” a huff as michael unlatches himself from ranboo’s neck to switch to sign and ranboo uses the opportunity to fully pull himself up into the room, ‘mimi said playdate!’

ranboo’s eyebrows raise, and he somehow portrays the vibes of someone blinking their eyes in shock despite his lack of eyelids. “did she, now?” he says, and michael nods.

“it’s ‘he’, dickhead.”

“he,” michael corrects.

ranboo nods, still looking a bit unsure but shrugs it off. “alright,” he says, “well, mimi was right, so-” and ranboo gets cut off with an _oomph_ as michael is once again latched to his neck. the sight nearly makes you melt, and you feel kinda fuzzy, so you allow your visible form to fade.

michael is talking a mile a minute as he koala’s around ranboo’s chest, a mixture of both piglin, sign, and broken english. ranboo simply makes sure his child is secure with an arm before descending down the ladder. rather than following, you float up to one of the high windows in michaels room, and take a minute to look out over snowchester.

it’s quite lovely. the sky is clear, no clouds insight, and the sound of the ocean lapping at snowchester's walls nearly lulls you into a dormant state. you lay your arms across the window sill and rest your head upon them, eyes half-lidded and tail swaying softly behind you.

your mind falls silent as your eyes linger on the ocean. you don’t need to breathe, but you do so anyways. a pit begins to form in your chest, tight and blocking your throat, feeling as though your ribs are constricting your heart. you don’t know why you feel like this, but you don’t have the energy to move or care. this feels rather sudden. you should probably be scared, but this isn’t the first time it’s happened, so you try not to pay it much mind. it is what it is. and if your vision starts to blur, and blood begins to drip from your temple, no one needs to know, because foolish arrives, totem son held in his arms as the child looks around almost frantically, most likely seeing snow for the first time since they live in the desert.

the new movement against the landscape knocks you out of whatever trance you had fallen into. the pit is smaller, you can breathe easier, you stop bleeding, and your hands stop shaking. you hadn’t even noticed them shaking. you simply knock your fist against your head, a silent reprimand for having another little episode for no reason. your chat would do their best to calm you down, when they weren’t scolding you for being rude or warning you of danger or chanting for you to kill someone, but you haven’t heard the invasive little voices since you were m- died. since you died.

ranboo and tubbo exit the house and ranboo sets michael down on the ground. you watch him run up to foolish and hug the totem gods leg. you’re pretty sure the god is actually over twenty feet tall, but who are you to judge for one changing their form as they wish?

you can’t make out what they’re saying as you float downwards, but freeze when foolish suddenly looks up in your direction after setting foolish jr. down to play with michael. your breath stutters, another habit you have yet to lose in death, and you glance over your shoulder to see if there's anything of interest that could have caught foolish’s eye, but you see nothing. you shouldn’t be visible to anyone, so you know he doesn’t see you. right? 

you look back down and foolish makes direct eye contact with you. you stop breathing entirely.

“foolish?” you hear tubbo ask, foolish not exactly being subtle with stopping mid-conversation to glance at you. “what’s up?”

you glance between tubbo and ranboo and foolish. your hands start to draw in towards your chest, under your red poncho, and your tail draws inward. foolish glances at the two husbands, then back at you, and he looks… sad? his eyes almost carry an apology, if you were to guess. which you don’t, you barely knew the guy, you mugged him once and he would pop up out of nowhere and scare you on occasion (not that you would admit it,) but you never really spoke.

you make a crossing motion under your chin, and foolish’s eyes track it. whatever hope you had for foolish seeing you being a fluke has been squashed, and you desperately hope that foolish doesn’t tell them.

they don’t know yet. they can’t know. you spend all your time either alone or with michael, but they don’t care that you’re gone, and they don’t know you’re dead. the thought of ruining everything, even after death through the news of said death, hurts your chest just thinking about it. you’d rather die again than ruin tubbo’s new, perfect life.

thankfully, foolish simply looks back at ranboo and tubbo and hides the sorrow from his gaze. “nothing,” he tells them, and you feel yourself deflate. “i just thought i saw an owl.”

you should feel relieved. happy, even. but all you feel is numb. you feel as though you're on autopilot as you hover away from the group and into the spruce forest.

you don’t come back to yourself until the moon is high in the sky, and you’d probably be lost if it weren't for your ability to simply float to the top of the forest and look for the ocean. you spend a second considering going for your communicator, but then you remember where it is, who it’s with, and settle for finding your way back without coordinates to guide you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you notice any capitalization or typos pls lmk in the comments
> 
> ty for reading <3 go hydrate and have a snack if you haven't eaten. mint helps with nausea if your stomach is too angy


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: fluff to counter the angst. fluff pog  
> also me, writing this: all i know is pain
> 
> n e ways, there's another panic attack. sorry. starts around "there’s another bout of silence, before laughter rings out." and ends with the chapter. also, some possible derealization during it? pls be careful with reading stuff
> 
> should i add chapter descriptions? 
> 
> OH ALSO shoutout to mikeythemage the looking over this chapter and encouraging me while i thought it was dog water. go read his shit, it's so good

the overworld has never been so imposing. even the first time you were brought here, cradled in bee’s arms, it never spooked you this much. the spruce trees tower higher than the ash-coated trees of the nether ever could, the layers of snow helping to block out the sun. each tree is tall and imposing, casting long shadows, and your eyes dart around at every noise. a single allium is held in your hands, petals fine but stem nearly crushed from your tight grip.

you need to find mimi. ever since foosh and tot had come to play, mimi had been missing. you asked bee and boo to go look for him, but they had insisted that his friend would be alright and come back eventually. after two days of waiting, you decided to go out and look on your own. you only slightly regret it.

another snap echoes from somewhere you can't see, and you hastily reach up to lift one of your floppy ears, trying to listen. but the wind keeps blowing, and the birds keep chirping. cracks echo from the trees, small woodland critters eating nuts, and you slowly lower your ear before returning your grip to the allium.

you're only slightly lost. it's okay. it's okay. despite the shadows, it's too bright for monsters to appear. it's okay.

you take a turn around a large spruce and stop in your tracks. it's mimi! you found mimi!

"mimi!" you shout and trot out into the small clearing. was mimi the one making those snaps? mimi kinda looks different... his red poncho has been replaced by a red and white shirt, his ears are more like bee's; long and floppy on the side of his head, instead of white and rectangular and closer to the top. his puffy tail is gone too, replaced by a long and thin one, with a white puff at the end, like boo's.

mimi turns around to look at you, and you notice small horns as well. "oh. 'ello." mimi says.

'where you been, mimi?' you sign at him, and he looks confused.

"mimi?" he asks, "i dunno who mimi is, little man. are you lost?" and you feel your heart stop. what?

"what?" you echo your thoughts out loud.

mimi kneels down, a worried look in his eyes. "are you out here by yourself?" he asks. mimi fidgets with his fingers, and you notice that those also look more like bee's, the usual black claws gone.

tears fill your eyes. "mimi," you say, weakly pointing at him. "you m- you're mimi."

"i'm… what?" mimi murmurs, confusion flooding his expression.

the tears overflow and you stamp your hooves down on the dirt. "mimi!!" you shout at him, shoving the half-crushed flower towards his chest. he takes it slowly, confusion fading away into a blank look. with your hands freed, you sign 'come home, mimi,' before saying aloud, "missed you."

mimi blinks once. twice. his soft grip on the allium tightens, ruining the stem more than you did. and then mimi glitches, and he's  _ your _ mimi again. his poncho and long fingerless gloves are back. he's covered in blood like when you first found him, but it's only there for a moment before he glitches again and is clean of the too-bright red. mimi gasps before dropping the flower and picking you up into a hug, and you cuddle into his fuzzy form

"oh, mikey, michael, i'm so sorry-" he says, peppering kisses onto the top of your head, and you're content to simply rest in his arms. you reach up to his ears, and when you feel them, they don't feel like bee's or mimi's. they feel like how big q's looked, and you gently pap them.

"what? what is it?" mimi asks, and you pap his ear again. "oh," he whispers, and in a moment his ear is once again furry. you see his usual grey and white tail appear behind him, (he’s told you before that it’s supposed to be yellow. he doesn’t know why people like him lose their color. when you ask him about that, about the ‘people like him’ comment, he waves you off with a smile.) and you sigh in content as the familiar appearance.

"mimi," you say, "we lost."

"ah… yea. how did we…" he pauses, "well. let's get you home, huh? tubbo and ranboo are probably worried sick." another pause, this one longer, and you can feel mimi looking around, taking in his environment, before saying "hold on tight. or, y'know, as tightly as you can hold a gh- me." 

and with that, mimi floats up high, higher than you've ever been. if you weren't in mimi's arms, you'd probably be terrified. mimi spins around a couple times, eyes squinting as he looks out in every direction, and sighs.

"how'd you even get out this far, bud…" you hear him say under his breath. you feel yourself start to doze, and you're happy to just rest in mimi's arms until he brings you home. you trust mimi. you think he forgot you, for a moment there, and consider asking boo a spare of that book he carries around, for mimi to have to help him remember. just in case that happens again.

…

you must have fallen asleep, because when mimi pats your shoulder and you look up at him, you notice that the sun is much lower in the sky, casting an orange glow over the snow.

"time to get up, big man." mimi says, and if it weren't for his raccoon mask, you'd think his eyes had deep bags, his voice incredibly tired. mimi places you down, and you take a moment to stretch, letting out a little squeal as you do and ignoring mimi's whispered 'aw'.

"bee! boo! found mimi!" you shout, and laugh in joy as your dads quickly notice you and run towards you. you know that they're going to scold you the moment they ensure that you're alright, but you brought mimi home, so you're okay with this.

mimi huffs a laugh from where he floats behind you, and when you turn your beaming smile into him, he smiles. it's a small thing, visibly tired, but genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner. mimi gives you a small two-fingered salute, whispers "see you soon." and fades from view.

  
  
  


it's a quiet evening you ask mimi about the previous day. he hadn't said anything about what happened, but it's all you've been thinking about. even your mooshroom, now named betty by mimi, was barely able to keep your attention for long.

mimi hums for a moment. he sits cross-legged in the air, hands in his lap and tail swaying slowly.

"you're gonna have to be more specific kiddo," he says. his ears don't twitch and his voice doesn't falter.

'in the forest,' you sign. he hums again. 

'what about it?' mimi signs back.

you huff in annoyance. he's avoiding the topic. "the-" you begin to say out loud before mimi cuts you off.

"the shapeshifting?" mimi asks, looking off to the side and projecting a nonchalant air.

"you forg-"

"here big man, let me show you!" mimi cuts you off again, before stretching from his sitting position. in a moment, all his raccoon features are gone, replaced by blunt tusks, floppy ears, and a spiral tail. "pretty cool, huh?" mimi says in piglin.

your internal debate only lasts a moment. if mimi doesn't want to talk about it, you won't make him. you'll just be there for him, like he always is for you.

'yes!' you sign at the shapeshifter before making grabby hands. you go to grab onto his poncho, but your fingers slip right through. you let out a slightly frustrated sound and mimi's form flickers from view for a split second. 

"ah… sorry big m, i'm still kinda recharging from, uh, that thing." mimi says. he sits himself on your bed and you climb up to join him.

'okay,' you sign, 'other?'

mimi cocks his head at you. "other what?" ah… you give him a confused look and motion towards your ears and tusks before pointing at his own. "oh… oh. pfft, yea, sorry mate, lemme just-" and then the ears and tusks are gone, replaced by a single change; wings, with a multitude of colors. the bend of the wings are a glossy black that morph into a dark crimson by the tips. you see a splatter of white feathers at random more visible on the underside of the wings.

he only has the wings for a moment, grimace visible on his face, before swiftly continuing.

"and i can also-" he says, before the wings are gone, looking as though they folded into his back. he has has a tail like boo now, and horns to match, except they're both black instead of boo's black and white. a ring of purple-red appears in his grey eyes, only visible for a moment before a hand- with long dark claws, also like boo's- covers his eyes. "like your pops!" mimi explaims.

you clap in delight, bouncing from where you sit. mimi can't pick you up, so in place of grabby hands, you wiggle your arms. mimi is starting to look a little winded, and you snort in concern, but he continues anyways.

“as well as-” you aren’t even sure how to describe this one. his horns are gone, as well as his tail, but it’s replaced with a fin. gills are visible from his neck, and the texture of his skin is visibly changed. his hair is gone, and he looks like foosh, except white and grey and red instead of yellow and green. the head-tail trails down to his lower back, and mimi presses a now-scaled hand to his cheek.

"ah, big ones like these are… always exhausting-” he gasps, before clapping once and continuing, “aaand-" mimi does a little spin as he morphs this time. as he twirls, he draws his knees to his chest and pulls his pants up from his ankles. he pulls it up to his knees, and where you expected to see human legs are long, lithe appendages with short fur tinted just the slightest bit green. his canines are more prominent, and while his scales and gills are gone, his ears are once again long and floppy, but this time without the fur. his head-tail is gone and his hair is back, and the usual tail is there once more, looking like boo’s but now the faintest energy buzzes around it. you point towards the energy, and mimi quiets once more.

he seems to spend a moment to gather his thoughts, opening his mouth to speak, closing, before opening and saying, "i'm a bit… charged, in this form, one might say."

"charged?" you mimic back at mimi.

mimi nods. "yea. see, i got these-" suddenly, a spiderweb of crack-like scares appears, trailing up mimi's neck and up towards his left eye, "scars, 'cause ya man got struck by lightning, but- y- um, yea. makes me all spikey looking."

whatever energy mimi had gained during his morph-a-thon must be lost, because his form starts to fade once more.

"me?" you ask mimi.

"hmm?" mimi says, "you gotta use your words, bud."

"you look like me? please?" you ask.

"oh," is all mimi says before his appearance once again matches yours. you clap happily, and mimi smiles down at you. you reach for his floppy ears, and his expression only strains for a moment before leaning down so you can grasp them. When your put your other hand on his shoulder to keep your balance, your hand slips through, and mimi apologizes before taking your free hand in his. his ear is barely there, his hand even less so, but he does his best to hold you up while you try to feel the fuzzy fur, almost exactly like your own if it weren’t for the discoloration. that’s okay though, your own ear came back discolored, just as half your face and your eye did upon regrowth.

you can both be different together.

  
  
  


“this is the song that never ends, y es it goes on and on my friend ,”

you kick up your legs as you trail behind your three hauntees, letting your body lean until you’re almost fully horizontal. hauntees? haunted? hauntlings? you don’t know. is michael technically the only one, since you only interact with him? who knows. not you, that’s for sure. it’s not like you’ve seen ghostbur around, or that weirdly intelligent blue sheep he drags around with him. creepy bastard with too-human eyes. someone needs to make it into lunch already.

“ some people started singing it, not knowing what it was,”

the god rays cast by the trees allow sparkles of light to shine off the morning dew, and you lift an arm to block the light from your eyes. you squint up at the clouds. it’s quite a lovely day. you wonder how karl managed to pick the perfect day, or if it was pure chance.

a breeze ruffles the trees, but you can’t feel it. water drips from the leaves, but when you reach a hand out, it doesn’t burn you like it would ghostbur, no, it just slips through like you aren’t even there. are you there? are you real? you pinch the fabric of your gloves and rub it between your padded fingers.

“but people kept singing it just because.”

you sigh. that was loop number… you lost track of them, but you know it was in the double digits. you need another time-passing loop song. nearly bending over backward, you look up at the two riders in front of you. michael is sat in tubbo’s lap, betty held in his arms. another breeze brushes by, and it’s visible in the way it pushes against michael’s fur, the way it makes his long floppy ears sway to and fro. you flip yourself around so you’re stretched across your stomach and cross your arms, resting your head. your tail idly sways, but the wind doesn’t toy with it’s fur, nor does it with your off-white bangs. 

tubbo and ranboo ride on in comfortable silence, but for you, it’s unbearable. even with the sounds of nature, something just feels off, and you aren’t sure if something’s going to happen, or if it’s just you. you find yourself absently humming clair de lune, fingers twitching for a non-existent piano. maybe this is a dream? you feel like you’re both getting too-much air and not enough at the same time. you don’t even need to breathe.

you almost consider picking your song back up, before sighing in relief as a mushroom building finally appears, and float ahead of your self-appointed charge to take in the new community. most of the buildings are still empty, likely built more for decoration than use. it doesn’t take you long to find a house with people, but the moment you see them, they’re walking out, likely having spotted their guests.

karl and sapnap walk hand in hand, and if you were in someone’s company, you’d likely make a show of gagging at the public display of affection, no matter how small. as it is, you simply sigh, definitely  _ don’t _ smile, and float along after the duo, wondering idly where big q is.

ah, that answers that. big q is with tubbo and ranboo and michael, likely having messaged his fiancees upon noticing their visitors’ arrival. you don’t see george anywhere, but that’s not much of a surprise. foolish and puffy are also with them, junior strapped to his father’s chest. 

you take your time floating over to the group, lightly bobbing in the air as you go. it sounds like karl and sapnap have already gotten acquainted to michael in the time it took you to arrive. michael calls karl ‘honk’ and sapnap ‘pandas’ and they melt under him. despite his english getting better, michael still calls foolish ‘foosh’ and junior ‘tot,’ but he’s never had a problem with puffy.

foolish glances at you from the corner of his eyes, and you glare at him.

“oi, what’re you lookin’ at, dickhead?” you snap at him, and foolish tries his best to hide his smile. you ignore the sad look in his eyes, and he averts his gaze and pretends not to see you, to which you’re secretly grateful. not that you’d tell the prick. motherfucker moves too quietly and has spooked you countless times. you don’t even realize you’ve zoned out until you hear your name come from one of the others.

“have you guys seen tommy lately?” quackity asks, and you feel yourself tense.

the silence is telling, and you find a sour feeling building in your chest.

“has no one told you?” puffy questions, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. you glance at foolish, and when he meets your eyes, he tries to give you a comforting smile. it only works a little bit.

“told us what?” ranboo asks a nervous undercurrent to his voice. His tail gently curls around tubbo’s ankle, and you hate the jealousy that spikes at that.   
  
puffy doesn’t look  _ too _ bothered, so you don’t think she  _ knows _ knows, but you still find yourself worrying. “he, uh, got locked in the prison.”

there’s another bout of silence, before laughter rings out. you feel your shoulders drop and tail droop, ears flattening to your head. foolish, karl, and the kids are the only ones not laughing, though puffy lacks the energy the others hold, more lightly chuckling at their laughter than anything. foolish keeps side-eyeing you with concern, and if it didn’t feel like dr-  _ he _ had his hands wrapped around your throat again, you’d tell him to fuck off. you don’t need his pity.

“man, he must’ve done something bad if he got thrown in the same prison as dream!” quackity exclaims, and you feel yourself sink lower to the ground. tubbo’s laughter seems to soften at the mention of him, but you don’t notice.

“i’m not surprised,” you hear sapnap say, “he was gonna get thrown in there eventually! kid is too chaotic for his own good.”

karl looks sick. it’s only for a moment, and you’re not sure if anyone else notices, but his face drops and his eyes fill with horror and sorrow. it’s gone in a moment however, karl masking his initial reaction and laughing lightly along with the others. you don’t know why, but you find yourself lacking the energy to care as you hear the others continually make ‘light-hearted’ jabs at you. if you even are him. ghostbur insists that he isn’t wilbur soot, so who’s to say you aren’t actually tommyinnit? how can you tell if you’re you, or if you’re just a cheap imitation? you can’t. you can’t tell, and it eats you up inside, and tears spring to your eyes.

“tommy?” you hear michael ask in confusion, and oh, yea, he never knew you, huh? michael only knows you as ‘mimi’ and while you wear that name with pride, it still stings. he’s glancing around, idly signing ‘mimi’ as though looking for you. you don’t answer his silent call.    
  
foolish clears his throat in an attempt to gain the others’ attention, before saying, “hey, why don’t we save these jokes for once he gets out?” he tries to divert the attention off you- off tommy- off  _ you, _ to little avail.

“it’s not like dream can hurt him,” you hear someone say, and you tune out the rest of their conversation at his name, ignoring the single set of eyes you feel baring into your back.

it’s okay, you tell yourself.

it’s okay. it’s okay.

they don’t know. couldn’t know. it’s not their fault.

_ ‘then who’s fault is it?’ _ a nasty voice asks you in the back of your head. you miss chat. they’d drown the bad voices out with ease.

_ ‘well?’ _ the voice questions,  _ ‘who’s fault is it? is it wilbur’s fault, for starting this all, to begin with? is it george’s fault, for missing the election and not taking anything seriously? is it sam-’ _

“shut the fuck up,” you hiss vehemetly, and you’re sure your palms would be bleeding, had you been alive, from how white-knuckled your grip is. you would know, your claws are sharp. you don’t know when, but your feet have touched the ground and you’re stalking through the trees, a loud static filling your ears and consuming the edges of your vision.

nevertheless, the voice continues,  _ ‘or, is, it, yours?’ _ it draws out. 

your knees hit the dirt and you curl down in on yourself, pressing your face into the grass and clawing at your ears. “SHUT THE FUCK  _ UP!” _ you shout at nothing, tears blurring whatever sight wasn’t overtaken by static. your body (ha!) feels numb, and the soft green beneath you steadily grows red and wet, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut before the red consumes your vision.

you need to run. he’s coming. he’ll be so upset that you left, how could you, after all that he’s done-

he’s going to hurt you. you need to run. he threatened to declaw you, you don’t know if you can grow back what was taken, you’ve never had to before, you don’t want to try it, he’s going to rip them from your hands you need to run-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forms he took in order, in case it wasn't obvious:  
> piglin  
> avian  
> enderman  
> whatever tf foolish is, i kinda imagine him like a metallic-looking zora  
> creeper, charged from when he got struck by lightning on doomsday
> 
> shapeshifters using their ability to hide their scars?? it's more likely than you think
> 
> pls yell at me if there's any capitalization or grammar mess-ups or typos pls. the middle part of this chapter brought me out back behind the barn to shoot me in the head
> 
> also sorry if i don't reply to any comments, y'all're so nice that i just end up curling up into a ball and holding my breathe lmao


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy: GHRHRKGRHRKRHK  
> zombie: GET YO FUCKIN RACCOON, BITCH  
> michael: it don't bite.  
> zombie: YES IT GO GET YO FUCKIN-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls notice the rating changes and new tags!! stay safe yall
> 
> also big help from mikeythemage, mans wrote the [spoilers] tubbo yelling part for me. thanks, big man
> 
> warnings for this chapter will be in the bottom notes!!!

clementine sleepily chitters from where she’s draped across your shoulders. you reply to her chitters with a nonsensical one of your own, and she quiets. 

bee said that clementine is a flying squirrel. when asked why that’s prefaced with ‘flying,’ boo explains that most common squirrels are grounded. clementine blinked at you with large, rounded eyes, and you couldn’t help but coo. bee and boo had seemed apprehensive when you and tot had approached the small furry thing as if something this tiny could do as much damage as young hoglin. the adults had been surprised when she had taken a quick liking to you, settling on your shoulders with ease.

you heard someone murmur something about the squirrel having strangely human intelligence, but pay it no mind. why humans are the norm, you don’t know, but you don’t really care. you and tot have a new friend, and you’re both happy.

foosh crouched down to pet the squirrel, and she let him. “maybe she’s domesticated?” the totem god had said, looking back at the others, who shrugged at him. you don’t know what that word means, and turned on instinct to ask mimi what it means. mimi wasn’t there, and you blinked in surprise.

“mimi?” you called out, but mimi doesn’t reply.

“who’s mimi?” foosh had asked, but you paid him no mind, spinning in circles and looking around the mushrooms and trees for your sometimes-raccoon friend. you think someone coo’d at you, but you barely heard.

“mimi is his imaginary friend,” bee answered foosh in your sted, before kneeling down next to you. “mimi might just be tired,” he said, placing a hand on your head.

you pause to think about it. maybe mimi is just tired? but mimi usually tells you when he’s tired. he always does. the only other time he hadn’t was when foosh and tot visited, the first time they’d come by since you had befriended mimi. they live a bit away, so it takes a while for them to travel to and fro. he had vanished at the beginning of their visit without so much as a wave, and he’d been gone for a few days after that. and then you found mimi in the forest, but he didn’t recognize you, and you don’t think he was  _ your _ mimi.

and then the squirrel chittered in your ear, bringing you back to the present. and then it had hit you-

“clementine,” you said suddenly, and bee, boo, puffy, and big q pause.

“what was that, bud?” bee asked.

“clementine,” you repeated before switching to sign, ‘mimi would have named her clementine. mimi not here, but i know mimi. clementine.’ you signed the last one while pointing to the squirrel, who had crawled onto tot while you were signing. big q and bee shared a look, one that you would have been unable to decipher if you had seen it.

“are we really gonna let him keep a squirrel?” boo asked, and oh, you hadn’t thought about that. you’d crank up your ‘puppy eyes’ as mimi had called them in the past, (“stop lookin’ at me with them big ol’ eyes,” mimi had said, cringing away from you. you’d been asking him to steal you more cookies, to little avail. until you’d turned on the forbidden puppy eyes.) and boo melted in an instant. “nevermind.” he said weakly.

“whipped,” pandas says, and the others start laughing again.

and then boo’s communicator pinged. no one had paid it any mind until it pinged again, and boo excused himself to check it. boo had paled drastically before turning to bee, who had stood back up by that point.

“i think we need to leave early,” he said to bee, and you, tot, and big q make noises of disappointment.

“but you just got here!” big q had said, and bee nodded, tilting his head in confusion.

“it’s tommy,” boo said, and bee had lit up like a glowing mushroom.

“is he finally out of the prison?” bee had asked, but despite your papa’s excitement, your focus had been on foosh.

foosh looked sad again. he looked to honk, and you followed his gaze, and honk looked sick. something tells you that you missed another adult thing, and turn to mimi once more before remembering that he’s still gone.

“uh... i think we should bring michael home, first,” boo had said, and before anyone could object again, honk spoke up.

“ranboo probably has his reasons,” honk soothed the others, foosh making a noise of agreement. bee quickly gave, and you had been taken home back to snowchester.

and that’s why you’re here, sitting on a swing that bee had made not too long before, clementine wrapped around your neck like a scarf. bee and boo had left not long after they’d made sure you’d be safe, boo still keeping the reasoning to himself but assuring bee that it was important. that had been hours ago, and books and betty could only keep you entertained for so long. you’re sleepy, clementine is sleepy, and it’s so boring without mimi to entertain you. you don’t know what you did before mimi was here, when bee and boo were off doing adult stuff. 

the adult stuff seems different this time, though. bee and boo were in a rush, instead of the usually sleepy-morning languidness. maybe it was because of your visit to the mushroom village? you reach a hooved hand up and start idly rubbing clementine’s head, watching the bits of grass not being weighed down by snowchester’s perpetual not-ash (‘snow,’ they tell you it’s called. what a weird name.) sway in the wind.

you like snow. it’s cold, but it’s soft and tastes good when mixed with jam bee makes from the berries growing around your home, and before they had healed you and helped you get your eye and ear back, it had calmed the constant sting that seemed to thrum through your body, especially where soft flesh and fur gave way to bone. you think about your eye, how painful it had been to grow back, but the instant relief that had flooded your body once everything was back had been worth it. your eye is still a bit fuzzy, like trying to look through parchment paper, but it’s better than nothing. your ear isn’t quite as long as the other, the ends just a little bit frayed like a used paper towel left out to dry after it’s already been used, and your hearing isn’t quite as good, feeling like cotton is blocking your ear, but it’s yours and you’re just happy to have it back.

you think you zoned out, because when you blink and look up at the sky, the sun has moved a sizable distance. It’s still plenty bright, but there’s an angry water cloud sitting on the horizon. it looks like it’s the loud kind, and you really want to go inside but you’ve resolved yourself to wait until bee or boo or mimi get back. 

as the cloud gets closer and closer, your trepidation grows. the scent in the air changes drastically. clementine seems to know what’s going on, likely smelling the same thing as you, and she’s quick to jump from your shoulders and glide over to a cracked open window. you’d been surprised the first time she’d done that, tot almost yelling as clem had jumped from your head onto the totem’s back, much to the adults shock and amusement.

now she sits on the window sill, underneath the opening, but not fully inside. she looks to you, as though asking  _ ‘well? c’mon.’ _

you shake your head at her. “can’t.” you say in piglin, “need to wait for them. they’ll be back soon.” looking away from clementine and back at the encroaching storm, clementine huffs from her spot in the window, but she waits still.

boo and bee will be back soon. you just know it. and maybe, this time, they’ll actually help you look for mimi.

…

…

…

the storm inches closer, and a small flurry of snow begins to fall from the darkening sky. it gets spun around in little spirals like the wind is toying with it like one would a small lock of hair. maybe mimi’s hair, his hair is white. and grey, but mostly white. it’s very pretty, and the only other person with white hair is puffy, but it’s not the same. whereas puffy’s hair reminds you of the ‘sea foam’ of the big-big water lakes, mimi’s reminds you of snow left to rest on a flower petal or a tree branch.

by the time bee and boo finally get back, the snow has picked up and the cold bites at you through your fluffy sweater. boo has his jacked hanging from his horns like a hood, probably to protect himself from the snow. but bee is under the makeshift canopy with boo, looking significantly less happy than when they had left.

you jump up from the swing and run towards them with a shout of “papa! daddy!” and when you get close, boo picks you up with his free arm, the other wrapped around bee’s shoulders.

“michael?” boo asks, his voice scratchy, “what are you doing outside?”

“waiting for you!” you tell boo, happy that your dads are home, but quickly notice red marks on boo’s cheeks. you reach up to touch the new marks, and boo hisses when your fingers touch them. “daddy?”

boo smiles at you, but he still looks sad. “i’m okay baby,” he says, gently bonking his temple into yours. it’s something bee taught you both, a way that he uses to show love, and you trill and bump his head back. but you know something’s wrong, despite boo trying to hide it from you. mimi does the same all the time.

‘not okay.’ you sign at boo, and he sighs.

“i’ll... explain, inside,” he says, and with that boo brings you both inside. boo goes to close the cracked window, and clementine jumps from the sill onto the enderman, climbing up boo’s tall frame to rest between his duel-colored horns as he deposits your jackets into the entryway closet.

“... where do i even begin…” boo whispers as he sits you and bee in one of the many living rooms, “you remember that person we mentioned earlier, tommy?”

you look to bee upon hearing that name. he had been so happy, last time this tommy person had been brought up, but now he barely reacts. taking a moment to look at bee closely, you notice a ring of red around his eyes and a wetness to his cheeks. you look back to boo and nod.

“well…” boo pauses before letting out a shaky breath, more of a huff than a sigh, and reaching a clawed hand up to rake it through his hair. with how much of a mess it looks, he’s likely done it a couple times now. “he’s... de-”

“he’s not dead.” bee interrupts. he doesn’t look up at either of you.

“tubbo…” boo says, reaching his hand over to grab bee's. bee yanks his hand away, and you make a noise of confusion. bee's never done that before, never refused to let boo comfort him. it makes you worry.

“no, no! he's not, okay! i... i won't believe that!”

“tub, sam said-”

“i don’t care!” bee says, standing up, “i don’t fucking care what sam said, ranboo! tommy isn't dead! he isn't allowed to be!”

boo furrows his brow, looking just the slightest bit annoyed, “you don't get to choose when tommy dies, tubbo. that's not your choice.”

“well, it shouldn't have been dr- his choice, either!”

“yeah, you're right, but can you stop being a dick about it? i’m not the one that killed him, tubbo, don't get mad at me!”

“he's not fucking dead!”

the yelling continues. an endless back and forth of screaming, and frantic movement, and pushing. at some point, boo had stood up, towering over bee so drastically that you think this is the first time he isn't slouching. he's losing the white on his skin, slowly, and it scares you. everything about this situation scares you. you don't like it at all. boo and bee have never fought before, at least not like this. it's usually so... (what had mimi said?) lighthearted. they're usually joking.

this isn't joking. 

and against your better judgment, you speak up.

“who tommy? mimi wouldn't tell me.” you ask. it stops the yelling, but with how much bee tenses, you can't tell if it's a good thing or not. bee turns to you, and he looks furious.

for the first time ever, you're scared of him.

boo places a hand on his shoulder, seemingly noticing the fear in your eyes, but he's shoved off. “michael, shut the fuck up. just, stop talking for  _ once _ . okay? no one fucking cares about 'mimi' or whoever the fuck you're always talking about. god, it is  _ exhausting  _ having to indulge you, sometimes. i don't even know why we took you in.”

boo pulls bee harshly by the arm into the other room, and the yelling starts again.

your heart is pounding in your ears. you think you hear clementine making a nervous chitter, but you don’t pay her any mind.  _ can’t _ pay her any mind, it’s like what bee said is playing on a loop in your head. he doesn’t know why he took you in. he doesn’t know why he took you in, he said, and that hurts so, so much. you feel choked, like you can’t take in enough air.

you’re out the door and running for the trees in seconds, your body moving on autopilot as you run from what you thought was your home. it’s snowing hard, having picked up in the few minutes you spent inside. thankfully you have a sweater on, but it does little to protect you from the numbing cold, seeping in through your floppy ears and small tusks and the tears that have begun to fall.

you’re lost, again, for the second time in two weeks. you don’t think you mind this time, though; sure, your ears are numb, and your tears are frozen to your cheeks, and you can’t feel your fingers, and- okay, that sounds bad, but you think you’d rather be out here than back there. you just wish you had the forethought to grab your jacket.

you run until you can’t anymore. you run until the stabbing winds hurts your chest, until your hooves ache with each step against the icy ground, until your vision blurs just a bit too much to see and a tree root trips you and you fall to the ground. you throw out your hands, but it does little to soften your fall. rocks and sticks dig into your palms and they shake as you lift them up your face to wipe at your tears. it stings, but the tears threaten to freeze your eyes shut, and something tells you that you should probably try to avoid that.

the sky is dark, the storm howls on, and your everything is either numb or stinging indescribably. you want to call out for mimi, but the last time you said his name, bee got mad at you. you’re alone, so no one would hear you anyway, but the thought of bee getting mad again makes you curl in on yourself even more than before.

you don’t know what to do. bee and boo lived in the coldest part of the overworld, and the rest of the overworld is nice but you want to go back to  _ your _ home. where there is no rain, and the lakes warm you instead of freeze you, and the baby hoglins would give you rides. you don’t think about how easily you could be zombified again, once again losing your ear and eye and probably more. you don’t think about how nice the rain felt against your fur for the first time. you don’t think about how kind all these new people have been, how kind mimi has been.

if you think about it, you’ll cry. and crying is bad, crying is a waste of water, and you can only get so much of that. piglins are scared of their zombie kin; you’re lucky you were able to look sentient enough to not be shot on sight,, let alone allowed to trade for the cold blue liquid of the other, colder realm you thought you’d never see. 

you begin to push yourself up, and then there’s a sudden, sharp pain in your leg. you fall back down with a cry, face-planting into the snowy dirt. the pain is overwhelming, traveling up your leg and into your entire body. tears you had been trying to hold back (in vain) start to fall even faster, and on instinct, you let out a squeal of distress.

you hear stumbling footsteps and look up at the approaching person, struggling to open eyes you hadn’t even realized you’d closed. but when they get close, they drop to their knees and reach for you. you lean into what you think is an embrace from a kind overworld dweller before cold hands grip your ear and neck, and blinding pain radiates from your shoulder.

another squeal is torn from you and you desperately try to bat the thing away. this only makes its teeth clench down harder, and, oh, this is an overworld zombie, huh? boo had told you how these things are a lot less passive than the zombies of the nether, despite being slower and typically without swords.

and then it starts to tug. jaw still clenched, it tries to wrench its head backward, and you realize it’s trying to eat you. through the thought-numbing pain, it occurs to you that this creature is trying to rip a chunk out of your shoulder, and your thrashing increases tenfold. it likely doesn’t help, and you can feel your skin tearing as more and more blood gushes down your front, soaking your sweater a deep red and splattering onto your face.

it hurts, it hurts so much, please please please-

“michael!!” you think you hear someone shout, but you aren’t sure if it’s real or not. you can’t hear much besides the gurgling growl of the zombie and the blood pounding in your ears. you can’t think, you’re in so much pain that you don’t register when the zombie’s jaw has been ripped from your shoulder. you can’t tell if it took your shoulder with it.

what sounds like a mix between a guttural hiss and a piglin warcry sounds in front of you, and your eyes struggle open in surprise. the sight that greets you fills you with relief, almost enough to make you forget about your injuries.

through the insistent squall, stands mimi. his raccoon tail is puffed up, ears looking like a weird mix between raccoon and piglin; long and floppy like yours, but still fluffier; and tusks poking from his mouth. he holds the zombie up by the head, black raccoon claws digging into its temple and eyes. there’s a chunk ripped out of its neck, sluggishly oozing black, and the same black muck is visible around mimi’s mouth and chin. it tries to snap at mimi, but then mimi hisses at it again, and with another sharp squeeze, the zombie’s head gives out. it’s eyes pop under mimi’s claws, black and green gunk oozes from the punctures and the cracks between each chunk of the skull, and with another squeeze, the chunks of skull get pressed even further in. pink brain matter joins the green and black, and whatever struggle the zombie had left in it is gone. mimi opens his hands, and after a small shake to dislodge his claws from the skull, the rotten body falls to the ground with a wet-sounding thump.

you blink up at the gory sight, whatever just happened not quite registering through the numbness that has begun to overtake you. you feel light-headed, and your vision begins to sway. you see mimi growl again and move onto another monster, but your vision is glued to the overworld zombie. its brain matter kind of looks like rice pudding puffy tried to feed you one time, except the texture was horrendous. never again.

a rattling noise (one that you think would be ear-piercing, if it weren’t for the wind of the storm buffering sounds. or maybe the growing pounding in your head.) sounds from behind you, and mimi is back with you in seconds. 

“michael, michael, michael-” mimi repeats your name, picking you up and inspecting your face. his thumb trails over your cheek, black blood from the zombie mingling with the red blood and tears coating your face, and he cringes. “okay, uh-” mimi picks you completely up off the cold ground, and you whimper then it jostles whatever’s in your leg. mimi is quick to grab and snap whatever it is, and it hurts a lot, but mimi whispers reassurances into your ears.

you feel something soft wrap around you, other than mimi’s arms, and when you open your eyes (again, when had they closed?) you see red and black wings wrapped around you. mimi’s wings. they don’t do much to stop the cold, mimi’s never been able to help with that, but the security of being blocked from the world brings you slight comfort. the fact that mimi took a form he openly isn’t fond of, just to protect you, settles oddly in your chest.

“i got you michael, don’t worry, everything’s gonna be okay-” mimi begins to ramble as he carries you somewhere safer,, “i used to be a medic back in my day, during the revolution, it’d patch everyone up after a long day, and then in p- in pogtopia, i’d patch up techie- technoblade when-when he got hurt,” a shuddering inhale, “and wilbur, when he’d get a gunp-powder on him, and accidentally light it, fucking dumbass, ah-”

mimi pauses, and from where your head sits in the crook of his neck, it feels like he’s looking around frantically. you don’t feel as cold anymore, but your shoulder and leg still throb.

“i-i guess he’s your uncle wilby? since, since im kinda your uncle, or whatever- and i’d have to patch myself up while at log- at l- by myself, while i was by myself, far away from your dads and their friends and everything i’d built-”

you drift to sleep to mimi’s nervous chatter.

when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the soft heat in your shoulder. the second thing you notice is a weird stiffness in the inside of your elbow, different from the stiffness that's overtaken the rest of your body. the third thing you notice is the soft sheet draped over you. opening your eyes is a struggle, but when you open them, you’re in a white room. there’s a thin tube connected to your elbow, where the stiffness was, and you trace it to a back full of soft pink, almost clear liquid.

a relieved sigh sounds from your left, and you turn to see two people standing there- or, one floating and one standing. mimi stands next to a human wearing a long white coat and a red and orange mask over his face, covering everything except his eyes. his very friendly eyes, actually, you almost can’t look away.

“oh thank prime,” mimi says, and the stranger goes to pat his shoulder. it goes right through mimi, and he flinches away just the slightest bit, but he still offers the kind person a nervous grin, and the person’s eyes crinkling, likely responding in kind.

“i’m glad you’re awake kiddo, tom- mimi here got you to me just in time.” he says, and wow, his voice is just as nice as his eyes. “my name is ponk, it’s nice to finally meet you.” you’d lift your arms to respond, but they feel so heavy, so you just nod at him. you tilt your head at mimi, and he seems to understand your silent question

“i brought you somewhere… relatively safe, to help patch you up. you’ve been out for a day or so, big m.” he pauses, “you’re uh… your shoulder wound- i was able to patch up your leg just fine, but the bite started turning green, so-”

before you’re even aware, you’re clawing at the bandages on your shoulder.

no. nope. nada. you refuse, you refuse to believe them. you refuse to get sick again, you don’t want to rot again, losing your eye hurt so much, growing it back even more so. you remember the flesh getting soggy and falling off your ear, you remember the skin peeling from your skull-

mimi’s hands wrap around your wrists, and a scared whine escapes your lips.

“nonono!” mimi sputters out, “you’re okay! You’re okay, i brought you to ponk because he has potions, he had weakness and i was able to grab a golden apple from my enderchest, and we had to snip away some rotten flesh but you’re okay-” and then he’s releasing your wrists and his hands cup your face. they’re still black claws, but now they’re black naturally and not because of zombie blood, and he’s wiping away tears with his thumbs. you hadn’t even noticed you’d started crying.

“you’re okay, you’re okay,” mimi says like a mantra, and he leans his forehead into yours. it’s the most solid he’s ever felt.

ponk appears on your other side, checking the bag with the pink fluid. “i’ve got you on a regen drop, little guy, so you should be in better shape soon."

a while later, and you're cuddle an old-looking cow plushie. it’s like betty, but instead of mushrooms, it’s covered in yellow flowers. mimi calls him henry, says that it used to be his. he looks a bit sad upon saying that, so you don’t question him further.

mimi and ponk chat in the corner, not paying you much mind, and you listen as you run your hooved hands over henry’s soft fabric.

“so you really are-?” ponk asks.

“yeah.” mimi interrupts before he can finish his question, nudging his head towards you. something tells you they think you can’t hear them. you aren’t sure if you should be listening or not, but your curiosity gets the better of you.

“... thank you for helping him.”

“of course, he’s just a child.”

“so are- so were  _ we _ .”

a pause.

“sorry, sorry sorry-”

“no, no, it’s okay. I understand.”

another pause.

“i’m sorry that happened to you.”

“... it is what it is, big man.”

“i’m guessing you’d like me to keep quiet about this?”

“how’d you know?” 

“tubbo and ranboo-”

“tubbo doesn’t need me anymore. tubbo is happy now.”

“...”

“michael needs me now. please don’t tell anyone i’m here. i don’t want to see them."

“even sam?”

they fall quiet after that, murmurs you can’t decipher, and eventually, you hear ponk (you know it’s ponk because you hear his footsteps, mimi never bothers to walk) shuffle out of the room. mimi floats over to you, and you look up at him. you’re both silent as mimi searches your eyes before he speaks up.

“what happened, mikey?”

and then you burst into tears, and mimi does his best to wrap himself around you without disturbing the iv drip in your arm.

‘bee mad,’ you sign at mimi through your tears, ‘bee’s friend tommy died, i asked bee question, bee mad at me. bee said bee regrets adopting me. i ran.’

mimi’s arms tighten around you, and he gently pulls you to his chest.

“michael,” he whispers into your fur, “i am so, so sorry.”

when mimi carries you back later, henry returned to mimi’s safe hiding spot and a lemon lollipop (a parting gift from ponk, gifted to you with a pat on the head. it’s so bright and yellow, almost like gold but not quite, but it still set off that buzz in your brain. you almost feel bad for eating it.) you almost doze off on the shapeshifters back. you think you do drift off, actually, because it feels like one moment you’re leaving a lemon tree forest, and the next you’re in a snowy spruce forest. 

mimi puts you down when you get near, but he still supports you as you stumble towards the house. all you want to do is to sleep in your own bed. 

boo is there. he looks exhausted, and you hear mimi murmur “ranboo…” but pay your friend no mind. boo is quick to notice you, and he scoops you up into his arms, holding you close to his chest. tears bubble at the corners of his eyes, and despite the sting growing in your shoulders at getting jostled, you try to wipe away his tears. you don’t want boo to burn himself.

boo wants to ask you about your injuries, you can see it in his eyes, but seeing how well bandaged you are, he brings you to bed at your request. mimi sticks by your side the entire time, as boo tucks you in and leaves a kiss on your forehead. clementine curls into your side (she had waited for you in your bedroom, apparently. what a good girl.) and you’re out in seconds.

you stand in front of the ladder leading up to michael’s room. it occurs to you, at that moment, that this probably isn’t the best way in and out of a room for someone so young. you’ll bring it up to ranboo- … you’ll fix it yourself later.

…

you don’t know why this is so hard.

....that’s a lie, you do. you fucked up, and now you’re having trouble admitting it. you’re having trouble  _ apologizing. _ you hurt michael, and he had gone missing for days, you hurt ranboo, and he’s barely spoken to you, (only to explain that michael had found his way back (no thanks to you) and was covered in bandages. he had seemed fine, had just wanted to go to bed, and ranboo had wasted no time getting him tucked in and asleep. you hadn’t seen him yet. you passed ranboo on the way to michael's room, and your husband gave you a long, silent look, before nodding and continuing on his way. you aren’t sure how to feel.) and now you have to own up to it. michael hasn’t spoken a word since his return, not to greet you, not to do anything other than sign a request to go to bed. he won’t tell you how he got injured, or who helped him, or how he survived out there for so long by himself. he’s silent, and it’s your fault. you’ve still yet to apologize to ranboo for the scathing back-and-forth you had instigated in your anger and… denial.

_ ‘It’s just like when tommy got back from exile,' _ something whispers in the back of your head, and you find your nerves jumping.

it is just like tommy’s exile, huh? you had never really spoken about it with the younger boy, both of you dancing around the topic until the time came, weeks later, to fight dream. and even then, you both barely acknowledged it. you fought dream, dream tried to kill you, and you were willing to lay down and accept it. to leave tommy behind to get locked in an inescapable vault. you think that, if that had happened, no one would have known tommy was stuck in pandora’s vault. no one would have thought that one of the boys would be left alive.

and then he gave up his disks for you. he hunched his shoulders and averted his eyes and bared his neck, all to protect you. he lost chekhov’s gun because of you.

what happened after that? you barely spoke to him. you both did your own things, willing to let the crack between you grow into a ravine. you hadn’t seen him for days, not walking around near the big innit hotel (that, when tommy’s reasoning for building the hotel is explained to you, sounds less like a hotel and more of a possibly-safe neutral ground, a homeless shelter. and doesn’t that hurt, the boy who’d had his home destroyed countless times, making a home for others?) or soaring through the air (with a trident he had gained from dream. maybe the one positive thing he got from the masked man. upon picking the trident from dreams dropped inventory, he had picked up nightmare with more care than any other item there, and gently brushed his hands over the prismarine weapon, as though saying hello to a long lost or forgotten friend. you find that, upon using the trident when returning to the greater smp, he flies through the air as though he’d been doing it all his life, as if he’d never been unwilling to use the wings that remind him a little too much of the absent father of his brother figure.) or simply fixing up the glowstone lamps, the last thing he had made before being exiled from his home. you know that it’s not just your fault, that he has- had stuff to apologize for, too, but it’s too late for that now, is it? looking back, you’d found that ever since exile, tommy had never taken up the form of a goat. your form. just as he’d stopped mimicking technoblade, he’d stopped mimicking you, and it hurts you so much more than you’d expected.

releasing a shaky sigh, you attempt to relax your shoulders and begin your climb up the ladder into michael’s attic.

you might have ruined everything with tommy, but you won’t ruin things with michael, with your son. you won’t. you refuse.

you close the hatch behind you as softly as you can, careful to stop it from thumping closed. you take a moment to stand there, to collect your thoughts and reign in your emotions. with a deep breath, you steel yourself and turn around.

you feel as though ice has been poured down your back. a figure is standing over michael's bed. your crossbow is out before you blink, loaded and leveled at the intruder’s head. 

“step the fuck away from my son,” you hiss at the intruder. you hear them whisper a soft 'oops' and resist the urge to scoff. how did you not notice them? how did they not notice you? their hands raise, back still turned to you, and step away from michael's bed slowly. wait... no, that’s not right. they  _ float _ away. their feet don’t even touch the ground. small particles break off from their being, floating up before dissipating a few inches away from their silhouette, and you take into account their appearance. 

gray and white hair, tied back into the smallest ponytail. A short red cape or poncho of sorts, covering a barely visible black undershirt. dark grey pants, ripped and threadbare and- stained? at your voice, the figure glitches like a broken communicator, and it’s like their wellbeing plummets. their pants are stained with blood, some fresh and some black and dried, cracking and flaking to the floor. their poncho is ripped and dirty. there’s blood in their hair, wet and dripping and flattening half of it to their head. their hands, adorned by fingerless gloves reaching up to their elbow, look dreadful, fingers bruised and broken, arms snapped with shards of bone poking through the flesh. any skin visible beneath the poncho and gloves is bruised black. their tail looks jagged as if broken in multiple places. their ear,(where you think the other would be is nothing but a bloody hole, what was likely the other ear reduced to saturated fur and torn skin and muscle barely hanging onto the skull) white and pointed, swivel down and back as though in pain. you can’t even begin to imagine the state that their chest and stomach could be in. blood drips onto the rug of michaels room, and you feel sick.

whatever chill had filled you earlier is quickly replaced with what feels like magma in your lungs, in your throat, threatening to suffocate you, to pour from your lips and char your skin and burn your home to the ground. it takes all you have not to double over and puke right then.

the figure turns. it’s tommy.

there’s blood dripping down his face, barely any skin visible. his nose is crooked, lip split, bruises under both eyes. wait, no, that’s not right; under one eye. the other eye is gone, socket partially hidden by his hair, but nothing but a bloody, gaping hole. his neck is swollen and raised, with what looks like black handprints wrapping around it. another drop falls to the rug, another glitch happens, and it’s as though all his injuries are gone. you can see through him. the crossbow drops to the floor, slipping from numb fingers, and you don’t even notice.

your eyes meet. tommy’s eyes are an ashy grey. it occurs to you, like an afterthought, that the only other ghost you know of is greyscale, just like whatever is standing in front of you, standing over your son, right now. your vision begins to blur.

“tommy?” you whisper. tommy- is this really tommy?- doesn’t reply outside of a tightlipped smile. “What… how- are you… are you… real?” you say, voice barely above a breath. you can barely breathe.   
  
“wouldn’t we all like to know,” it… he mutters under his breath, before pausing. his face displays a wide range of emotions, from pain, to confusion, to regret, to acceptance, to apathy. none of them look natural on his face.

“no.” the phantom answers, sounding so sure of his answer, before cocking his head and bringing a now unbroken finger up to his lips, as though contemplating. “i don’t think so.”

he-  _ it  _ smiles at him, softer than tommy ever had, and you feel your face forming into a scowl as you reach down for your fallen crossbow. you wipe your forearm across your face, furiously scrubbing away your tears, and blindly point your weapon at it.

“get the fuck out,” you hiss, throat feeling blocked, “i don’t know who or what you think you are, looking like that, but you better fucking-” and for the second time that hour, your voice dies in your throat.

he- tommy- it’s gone. the room is empty. the rug is clean of blood.

You release your white-knuckled grip on the crossbow and quietly step towards michael. you don’t want to wake him if he’s okay. gently untucking and lifting the blanket, you look him over. outside of the injuries he gained earlier, he looks fine. clementine blinks up at you sleepily, and you stroke her head with a single finger, silent encouragement to go back to sleep. she tucks her head back into michael's neck, and you tuck your son back in with a sigh. straightening your back, you raise a hand to your head and massage your temples.

“i must be seeing shit,” you breathe out. you feel numb. you don’t know when you put the crossbow away, but you can’t it so it must be in your inventory. you sit beside your son, careful in lowering yourself to avoid waking him. your hands are shaking.

it wasn’t tommy. because if it was tommy, then you just ruined everything, again. but, there’s no way it was him, right? he might be different now, but he’s still tommy. tommy doesn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve like that, tommy doesn’t do  _ soft _ like that. at least… he didn’t while you were close. you think about the last time you had a conversation with the shapeshifter that wasn’t stilted and awkward. you struggle. the thought that maybe you didn’t quite know tommy as much as you’d like’d to brag, bubbles to the surface of your mind. you block it out as much as you can.

despite the imaginary (was it really fake?) argument that just took place at his bedside, michael is still sound asleep. you brush a hand over his pink and grey fur and idly sit at his side.

_ tomorrow _ , you tell yourself. _ i'll talk to him tomorrow. when i'm not yelling at fake dead people. _

the crown of alliums resting on the nightstand next to your son's bed catches your eyes. michael has had it for a while now, treats it as technoblade treats his own. you reach over and gently pick it up, inspecting the crown.

for the first time in however long michael has had it, the small petals of the poofy-looking flowers began to wilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> graphic descriptions of injury in multiple spots  
> -starting from "you begin to push yourself up, and then there’s a sudden, sharp pain in your leg." and ending at "a rattling noise" (with some mention of blood after, and an arrow being partially broken while still in the wound, but that's not too graphic)  
> -starting around "gray and white hair, tied back into the smallest ponytail." and ending around "your eyes meet."
> 
> pls let me know if i missed any caps or if there are any typos!! ty for reading, pls remember to take care of yourself


End file.
